


All The Right Words

by ArgentLives



Series: Across Every Universe (You are Home) [18]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Best Friends, Bullying, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-26
Updated: 2015-09-26
Packaged: 2018-04-23 10:52:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4873999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArgentLives/pseuds/ArgentLives
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When he still doesn’t lift his head, or even acknowledge her presence, she sighs, and reaches out a hand to tilt his chin up. She gasps when the light falls on his face—red and swollen and puffy, already starting to bruise. “Oh, Bear—”  </p><p>He clenches his jaw tight and averts his eyes, but she can see that he’s hurt, embarrassed, and thoroughly miserable. She doesn’t relinquish her grip on his chin, though, his tears falling onto her hands and making her palms wet. She waits as long as he needs, until she knows he’s ready to talk, until she feels him finally lean a little into her touch. “What happened?” she whispers, finally letting her hand drop and scooting closer to where he’s huddled. He squeezes his eyes shut, and when he speaks it’s in short, gasping breaths. She feels a sharp pang in her chest. It always breaks her heart to see him crying like this.</p><p> </p><p>[Missing class is a small thing when it comes to being there for her best friend after dealing with bullies. Tony Woodward better not even think about crossing her path any time soon]</p>
            </blockquote>





	All The Right Words

**Author's Note:**

> written for the prompt: "Westallen as kids, Iris comforting Barry after a particularly traumatizing run in with some bullies"
> 
> Not really an AU and something I actually see as canon but w/e I'll post it here anyway

Her first clue that something isn’t right is that Barry doesn’t meet her at her locker like he always does, one of the only instances he’s ever consistently on time, because him being late would mean making her late, and when it comes to her he’s always managing impossibles. Her second is that Tony and his crew are laughing and high-fiving about something when she passes them in the hallway on her way to class, already late herself anyway after finally conceding that Barry wouldn’t be showing up. 

She spends the first ten minutes of class tapping her foot nervously, impatiently, worrying her bottom lip, persistently clicking her pen to keep herself occupied to the point where the teacher has to pause in the middle of her lesson to glare at her and tell her to _be quiet._ She’s not even trying to pretend that she’s paying attention to what’s being written on the board, and instead keeps her eye on the door, willing him to come barging into the room any second with a steady string of excuses and apologies for their teacher at the ready. 

But he doesn’t show up at all, and he would have told her if he was leaving school early for some reason. Besides, this is science class that he’s missing, and Barry  _never_  misses science class if he can help it, and that’s what really sets off the alarm bells in her head. She tells the teacher that she has to go to the bathroom, insists that it’s an emergency, and slips out the door before she can be met with any objections so that she can go look for him.

It’s in between periods, so no one will be in the locker rooms–and besides, she doesn’t really care much about getting caught, anyway. She’s got more important things to worry about, so she quickly sweeps her gaze left and right before ducking into the boy’s locker room, hoping that she won’t catch some unfortunate soul in any state of undress. “Barry?” she says it first in a whisper, but no one seems to be around. She’s learned from experience, however, that this doesn’t  _actually_  mean that no one is there, and clears her throat, calling out his name a little louder. 

She doesn’t get a response, but when the room falls silent again and all she’s left to is her own noisy, concerned thoughts buzzing away in her head, she hears a muffled, sniffling sort of sound, and immediately gets to work, running her fingers along the row of lockers and peeking through the tiny little slits on each one. Mostly she just sees lots of sweaty, abandoned socks and shoes, old t-shirts and gym-bags—or at least that’s what they look like in the limited light she has—and she wrinkles her nose in distaste. Finally, her eyes land on a shape that she’s sure is definitely not just a pair of shoes, but that looks much more like a hurt little boy with his shoulders hunched and his head buried in his hands. She can just make out the sound of his labored breathing.  _Gotcha._

Her gaze flicks to the padlock keeping him in there, and she sighs sadly as she twists it—left 5, right 20, left 7—hating the fact that she has the combination memorized because of this very reason. She pops it off and places it on the bench beside her, pulling the locker door open and revealing him squished in there, sitting at the bottom with his knees pulled tight to his chest, head bowed, shoulders shaking. He doesn’t even look up when she kneels down in front of him and pokes his leg.

“Barry. Look at me.”

When he still doesn’t lift his head, or even acknowledge her presence, she sighs, and reaches out a hand to tilt his chin up. She gasps when the light falls on his face—red and swollen and puffy, already starting to bruise. “Oh, Bear—”  

He clenches his jaw tight and averts his eyes, but she can see that he’s hurt, embarrassed, and thoroughly miserable. She doesn’t relinquish her grip on his chin, though, his tears falling onto her hands and making her palms wet. She waits as long as he needs, until she knows he’s ready to talk, until she feels him finally lean a little into her touch. “What happened?” she whispers, finally letting her hand drop and scooting closer to where he’s huddled. He squeezes his eyes shut, and when he speaks it’s in short, gasping breaths. She feels a sharp pang in her chest. It always breaks her heart to see him crying like this.

“I was—I was the last one to finish my laps today in gym, so when I came in to the locker room I thought it’d be empty but—but they were there waiting for me and,” he takes a deep breath to steady himself, and Iris lays a reassuring and on his knee, encouraging him to go on. “They—they tried to get me to hit back—hit this other kid and I—I couldn’t do it, Iris, I didn’t  _want_ to, and I told them no, and then Tony was holding me down and he—he said that I was a liar, that I had to have it in me, because—because it runs in my family, and I’d—I’d end up just like my dad because he—he was a murderer but he’s—he’s  _not_  Iris, I swear he’s not, and I won’t—I’m not—” he breaks off in a sob, unable to finish.

“Barry, shh, calm down,” Iris soothes, momentarily tamping down her fury at Tony and his gang of bullies and making a mental note to confront them later. They were threatened by her, after all, especially when she was pissed–and she is more than pissed. But Barry needs her right now, and anger won’t really help him. She squeezes his shoulder and tries to smile for him, not because she’s anywhere near happy at the moment but because she knows he likes her smiles.

“Hey—it’s okay, I believe you. You know I always do.”

“Really?” Barry sniffles, finally meeting her gaze, eyes full of hesitation. She rolls her eyes and uses the hand she’s got on his shoulder to shove him lightly, affectionately. 

“Don’t be stupid. ’Course I do. I’ve told you that before,” she feels a rush of relief when he manages a sheepish smile at that, and plows on before he can form any other doubts. “And you don’t have a mean bone in your body, Barry Allen. Don’t listen to Tony. He’s just jealous because he knows you’re a better person, and he’s just a big, useless bully. He knows you would never stoop to his level.”

That makes him smile in earnest, wavering and watery but genuinely appreciative and just a little bit more hopeful. “Thanks, Iris. You always know the right things to say.”

She shrugs and leans over, pulling him into a hug. “What can I say—it’s a talent of mine,” she teases, but then she holds him a little tighter and adds, “It’s true, though. What I said.” She can sense that he’s still upset about it, that he’s still clearly hung up on Tony’s remarks, but she feels him nod against her shoulder, anyway. 

“Thank you,” he repeats, and as she moves to pull back she notices him wince, and wonders just how much damage they’ve done this time. She stands up and holds out her hand, cocking her head to the side in a silent  _‘Let’s go.’_ He gives her another tentative smile and accepts it, allowing her to pull him out of the cramped little space of the locker and onto his feet. 

Once he’s standing in front of her and she can get a better, fuller look at him in the light, she surveys him up and down with narrowed eyes, not at all happy with what she sees. She pursues her lips and begins pulling him towards the exit of the locker room, never relinquishing her grip on his hand, and shaking her head in renewed anger—though not at all at him. “Come on. I’m taking you to the nurse’s office. You need to get checked out.”

She stumbles a bit when he doesn’t fall into step behind her as usual, her fingers still laced with his, and turns to face him in confusion. “ _Come on_ ,” she repeats, this time more insistently, but he just shakes his head.

“I can’t go to the nurse, Iris. She’ll ask questions, she always does. And then Tony’s gonna find out somehow and it’s just gonna be even worse next time this happens and I—I can’t. Please don’t make me.”

Iris sighs in frustration, not because he’s being difficult, but because unfortunately, she knows he’s right. She considers making an argument, telling him that they’ll figure something out afterward, but she knows he’s not going to budge. She bites her lip, considering. “Fine. No nurse—but I’m not letting you go back to class like this.”

He raises an eyebrow at her, smiling sadly. “Where else am I supposed to go? Joe’s at work right now, right? He can’t exactly pick me up.”

Iris shakes her head. “True, but the school isn’t too far from home. We could walk. It’s sort of nice out, anyway.”

“Iris...” Barry starts, frowning, and she knows he’s about to tell her that she doesn’t have to do that, that she should just get back to class, that he’ll be fine, that she shouldn’t worry about him. None of which she wants to hear.

“I’m not leaving your side, mister,” she pokes him in the chest, and then makes a face at him. “Besides, I’m not exactly opposed to the idea of skipping math class today, anyway. We’re starting pre-algebra, I think.”

“Okay,” is his only response, because he knows there’s no arguing with her when she’s made up her mind. He tries to sound put-out, but she can see the gratitude in his eyes, and he can’t hide the hint of a smile that’s playing on his lips.

“Come on,” she says, tugging at the hand she still hasn’t let go of, giving it another reassuring squeeze, and this time he follows. “We better get going before classes are let out so that we can sneak out the back.” 

She wonders briefly if her dad will be angry when he gets the call that they’ve skipped class to leave school early. The answer is most definitely yes, but she thinks he’ll probably be sympathetic once he knows the reason why—and Barry is clearly sporting the evidence to show it. Either way, though, she doesn’t really care, as long as it means she’s there for Barry when he needs her. No math for the day is just an added bonus.

 

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted on my [tumblr](http://bisexualiriswest.tumblr.com/), as most of these prompt fills are.


End file.
